All of my stories are true. You can believe that or not. I will attempt to tell them in chronological order so that you can get a sense of how the sexual relationship between Pam and myself progressed. They'd be best understood read in order, but I will do my best to make each episode stand alone. Names have been changed, dialogue and details added for literary purposes, but these events actually happened.
Thanksgiving commandos...
When I awoke, around 9:30, I was alone. I threw on my boxers, a pair of sweatpants and a T shirt and headed downstairs. It was already a hive of activity. Pam was there, looking oh so cute, in her PJs, rolling out dough, using one of those tapered rollers without handles, her mom was preparing the turkey, Pat was prepping vegetables and her brothers were adding leaves to extend the table, all with the radio playing. They even had a fire going in the fireplace.
Pam saw me at the bottom of the stairs, "Morning Babe."
"Good morning everyone." Then I noticed that the Will and Pat's daughters were not there.
"Where are the girls?"
Pat replied, "Homecoming parade, then the football game and later a school dance. Oh, and dinner's going to be around 4:00."
Pam was standing at the island with her back toward the sink counter. As I snuck behind her to get a drink of water, she turned, placed the rolling pin near her crotch and began stroking it with her flour covered hands. Giggling, she quickly turned back around and continued rolling out the dough. I just rolled my eyes.
"What can I help with?"
"Here you go, I've got you all set up next to me. Start peeling the potatoes."
I grabbed the peeler and commenced.
A couple of minutes later, Pam reaches behind me with her left hand, starts to slide it down the back of my pants, feels my boxers, gives a little bottom-lip pout and yanks up on my shorts, as if to give me a wedgie. Startled, I drop a potato on the floor. As I go down to pick it up, Pam bends down with me.
"Listen buddy," she laughingly says. "I'm going commando under these PJs for you. Get you ass upstairs and lose those shorts." She then pops back up and starts cutting out biscuits while singing along with the radio.
I get up, excuse myself saying I need the restroom, and go upstairs to the bedroom, take off the boxers and head back down.
Pam is now cubing the stale bread and dicing onions and garlic for the stuffing. I resume my potato peeling position.
After a minute, Pam's hand reaches back, slides down my pants and squeezes my now bare ass cheek. Retrieving her hand, she asks, "Now isn't that better?"
"Much better."
Finishing our prep work, her mom announces that the biscuits are done. We each grab a plate, a couple of biscuits, a knife and glass of OJ and go out to the dining table, which, by now, was all set up with butter, honey three kinds of jam for our biscuits and for dinner including table cloth, candles, silverware and a centerpiece.
We sat facing the kitchen so that Pam could continue to be engaged with her Mom and Pat. As I'm looking at the fireplace, I feel Pam's hand go inside my pants. She squeezes my balls and her fingers slide up and down the sides of my dick a couple times, then it is gone. She's smirking. I start to put my hand on her thigh, but she lifts in up and puts in back on the table. All this while her eyes never left the kitchen.
A few minutes later, I see her hand again disappear. I anxiously await the next playful assault on my junk, but nothing happens. She then brings her hand up, places her finger under my nose, I can immediately identify where it's been and slides it in my mouth. I suck it clean.
"I like being a commando," she smirks.
"And so do I."
Pam's mom calls out from the kitchen, "How are those biscuits?"
"Finger licking good Mrs, Williams," I reply.
